The tragic outcome of last week's Boston Marathon bombings is still fresh in the minds of many who are suffering, yet there are some individuals ready to capitalize on it by shocking an already vulnerable populace into a state of confusion.

Amanda Palmer, former member of the Dresden Dolls, a two-man group hailing from Boston, is not known for her ability to fade gracefully into obscurity. In an interview with SPIN, she said "I hate being ignored" though she isn't lacking in publicity, unless you exclude the negative kind. She's been criticized most recently for hosting a crowd-sourced, million dollar orchestral project known as the "Grand Theft Orchestra" and then having the stones to still request volunteer musicians.

Palmer's newest attempt at attention defibrillation is aimed at the recently captured Boston Bomber, Dzhokar Tsarniaev, wrapped around a series of other seemingly unrelated things, such as iPhone batteries, not knowing how to dance, and cheating off a graduate student's dissertation draft.

Here's an excerpt:

you don’t know how to explain yourself.

you don’t want two percent but it’s all they have.

you don’t know how claustrophobic your house is until you can’t leave it.

you don’t know why you let that guy go without shooting him dead and stuffing him in some bushes between cambridge and watertown.

you don’t know where your friends went.

Palmer doesn't sympathize with the bomber in her poem, but she doesn't condemn him, either. There's no real symbolism, allegory or metaphors here. Just a repetition of 'You don't, you don't, you don't.' The lines that do make any sort of sense are offset by lines like this:

you don’t know how many vietnamese soft rolls to order.

There's more of this disjointed, unrelated junk littered throughout the poem. You can read it all here (if you really want to).

Palmer's poem does little more than exude her own 'starving' artist behavior -- but not the kind of 'starving' that makes your stomach grumble -- starving for attention. There's nothing deep or inspirational in her words, just the little voices inside her head. It's nothing more than a bunch of random thoughts, labeled with a tragic headline and sent out to accrue attention.